The Monster
by alyssuh
Summary: Will had not seen it coming, but he should have. He really, really should have. Hannibal/Will.


**This was written during a bout of inspiration at two in the morning. It contains non-graphic allusions to sex and violence, as well as minor spoilers for Red Dragon and influences from the books. This is my first Hannigram piece, so I hope you enjoy. **

**Leaving a review-constructive criticism in particular- is always appreciated**

* * *

Will had not seen it coming, but he should have. He really, really, should have.

x

Their affair starts sometime between hallucinations, appointments, wine, and chess. The latter two are Will's favorites in particular, though he's quite partial to the appointments which are caused by the frequent hallucinations and nightmares. In a way, all the fucked up parts of himself drew him to Dr. Lecter. To this day, Will can't bring himself to address him as anything besides a doctor; anything less would be discourteous.

The first time it happens, it's against Dr. Lecter's vast bookshelves, the infinite encyclopedias and novels and other books an earthquake with their combined movement. Will's pressed up against the shelves and held up only by Lecter's weight and a hand on a higher shelf which is quickly held by the other man's. This brand of intimacy, stemmed from occasional brushes of fingers moving pieces on a chess boar, breaks all forms of what's meant to be in a doctor-patient relationship. Will knows it, they both know it.

Yet, it doesn't stop them from doing it again, and again, and again.

It isn't love-making. It isn't fucking. Will doesn't want to stamp a label on whatever he and Dr. Lecter have because he knows doing so will ruin whatever they have. Whatever they _share_. Will's never shared anything like this with anyone, and it's both scary and absolutely delightful and he never wants it to end.

Dr. Lecter seems perfectly content with whatever they have as well, as far as Will can tell. You can never really tell with Dr. Lecter because he's so unreadable, most of the time, but there's something there, in those maroon eyes.

Perhaps it's a mirror.

x

The first night they actually spend completely together is after a meal that Dr. Lecter's prepared for them. Dr. Lecter's sheets are Egyptian cotton and feel unnaturally soft against Will's skin when he's spread out and taken gently against them, the kisses given by the other sweet against his skin. The mantra of Dr. Lecter's name pouring from Will's lips like rain is silenced by Dr. Lecter himself, with his own lips and tongue. Will grips onto Dr. Lecter like he's an anchor; his only true chord connecting him to reality. In a way, that's what Dr. Lecter is to Will.

Reaching a mutual release has never been a challenge with the two of them and Will likes that even more. There's something absolutely electric about being filled and opened up by Dr. Lecter, and something even better about knowing that the enjoyment is not one-sided.

Eventually, they're both spent and well-used, and Will's falling into the same dreamless sleep he's kept up ever since he and Dr. Lecter initiated… well, whatever they have. His back is turned to the doctor, whose back is turned to him. They're content like this.

It's some time later when Will is awoken by a rustling of sheets on the other side of the bed. At first, thinking that his partner's gotten up to go to the bathroom, he falls back asleep, but when he's awoken by a shout, he's fully awake, glancing over at Lecter.

"_Mischa… Mischa…_"

Concerned, tentatively, he leans over to touch Lecter, who jerks fully awake at his touch. After a moment of glancing at each other, intense maroon glancing into blue, the agent's pulling Lecter into an embrace that he doesn't reject and they sleep this way: Will holding him, Hannibal letting him.

This is the first time Will holds Hannibal after his nightmares whose contents he never quite reveals, but it's not the last. There's something fantastic about being needed, especially by such a steel-hard, stoic man such as Dr. Hannibal Lecter. So human that sometimes it pains Will, but he needs human. He needs that anchor.

x

It feels nothing like slipping into a warm bath.

An electric thrill's sent up his spine, but it shouldn't be. It's a fucking _knife wound_, for Christ sake's.

x

Walking down the line of cells at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane feels too much like déjà vu and he wants to vomit, but he does not. His hand's clammy around the thick manila folder marked with '**THE TOOTH FAIRY**' in permanent marker and messy writing.

When he reaches the last cell on the left, he tentatively approaches, peering inside and sitting.

"_That's the same atrocious aftershave you wore in court._"

The monster speaks finally, sitting up to glance at him. Will merely chuckles nervously at that.

He hadn't seen this coming, but he should have.

FIN


End file.
